


All Good Things Must Come to An End

by acciobending



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Heartbreak, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:42:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27165389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acciobending/pseuds/acciobending
Summary: just some short drarry angst with a happy ending
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 29





	All Good Things Must Come to An End

_...I can’t believe he’s mine. It’s been over a year and I still cannot believe I am the luckiest man alive. I love him so much. I want to start a new life with him. I want to marry him. I want to have kids with him. Ha,_ Draco smiled _that would confuse the sorting hat…_ This had been going on since dinner. Draco got back to the common room and, while waiting for Harry to return from Quidditch practice, had a conversation (and a few drinks) with some of his classmates about what they were going to do after leaving Hogwarts. Of course, they were all discussing future careers, and Draco tried to do the same, undoubtedly, but every thought he had eventually led to him and Harry, one way or another. So when all of Draco’s classmates left to go up to their beds, Draco was left sitting comfortably on the couch staring into the fireplace, not able to stop thinking about his boyfriend.

Draco had not heard the portrait swing open to let Harry into the common room. Perhaps his head was a little too crowded. He did, however, smell Harry. He always teased his boyfriend for smelling so sweaty after practices and games, but Draco secretly loved Harry’s inimitable scent. He turned around and spoke to Harry, “Hey babe. How was practice?”

“Good.” Harry said dryly

“I haven’t seen you very much today. Fill me in. What did I miss? Spare no details!” Draco was enthusiastic, making large gestures with his hands and varying facial expressions as he spoke.

“I’m tired. I'm just gonna go to bed.”

Draco must admit, Harry did seem tired. He usually didn’t speak so shortly. Obviously Draco cared about Harry's well-being, so he easily obliged. “Okay! You do seem like you need some sleep. I’ll be up in a bit. Don’t wait up.” But it seemed as though Harry didn’t plan on waiting anyway. He was already making his way up the staircase. “Love you Harry! Good night.”

“Good night.”

Draco stayed there for what must’ve been another hour before we went up to his bed. He fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow. Draco was one of those lucky people who somehow had the ability to fall asleep in under a minute. When he woke up the next morning, Harry was already gone. He didn’t think too much of it; the big Quidditch match against Slytherin was coming up and Harry was the captain of their team, so he had probably just gone off to discuss strategy with some of his teammates. 

When they all go to the Great Hall to eat lunch, Draco spots Harry, all the way across the hall, looking like a magical creature because _how can a human being look so **goddamn perfect???**_ But as he’s watching Harry, he’s growing more and more concerned. He thought Harry had just been tired last night, but he’s acting so distant right now. The outgoing boy who was always laughing with his friends - the boy that Draco fell in love with - he wasn’t here right now. Harry seemed detached from his surroundings. Draco had to find Harry and see what was going on.

But he seemed to lose Harry anytime he saw him. Harry had slipped out of the Great Hall into the swarm of students after lunch, and it was practically pointless for Draco to look in there. Once, Draco had seen him after his Transfiguration class and ran to catch up with him, but he was pushed over and when he had finally regained his balance, Harry was gone. Then, almost giving up hope and just waiting to talk to Harry until after dinner in the common room, he saw Harry leaving his Charms class and grabbed him by the wrist.

“Harry. What’s going on?”

“Draco, I don’t have time for this right now.” said Harry, visibly getting more and more annoyed by the second.

“Really? REALLY? You don’t have time for this right now? Recently it seems like you never have time! Harry I’m worried about you. I want to talk to you but I keep losing you. What is going on?” Draco was angry. But he wasn’t mad at Harry. He was scared. How could his boyfriend push him off like this? They’re supposed to be there for each other. _Why can’t he trust me?_

“It’s nothing”

“It’s not nothing! Harry - whatever’s going on, I’m here for you. Please. Tell me. I want you to feel like you can trust me. Whatever you’re going through, we can deal with it together. _Please,_ Harry, talk to me. I love you.” Each word Draco’s mouth produced grew smaller and smaller. He was barely able to push the last sentence out of his mouth, raw and desperate. He wasn’t angry anymore. It hurt him to imagine his boyfriend dealing with this alone, forcing him out of reality. But what hurt him even more was the fact that Harry couldn’t trust him. After everything…

“Let me go” 

“Harry-”

“I said, let me go. **Malfoy.** ” 

Draco stood there as Harry walked away, never turning back to look at Draco, not fully processing what had just happened. He heard footsteps coming from around the corner and quickly identified them as Pansy’s. He tried to shake the painful look off of his face before she saw him.

“Draco! There you are! I’ve been looking all over- Woah. Are you okay?” Apparently Draco had not been convincing enough. 

He smiled weakly. “Yeah. Just… one of those days.”

Evidently, this was a good enough answer for Pansy. “I get it. If you want to skip and raid the kitchen… I. Am. Down.”

Draco forced a laugh. “No, Pans. Thanks though.”

“Okay then, your loss!” she said jokingly. She grabbed Draco’s wrist, in the same spot he had grabbed Harry’s just moments ago, and dragged him off towards their next class.

Draco hadn’t been paying much attention to his professor - his mind kept finding its way back to what happened in the hallway. Had Harry really called him Malfoy? They used each other's surnames playfully every now and then, but he was serious. Draco didn’t know what to make of the conversation. And his mind kept circling one question. _Why can’t he trust me?_ What had Draco done to make Harry so- “Mr. Malfoy. Maybe it would be useful for you to pay attention in my class if you actually plan on passing your N.E.W.T.s, yes?”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco had been eagerly awaiting dinner. He needed to talk to Harry. To clear his mind. Half an hour of staring at Harry’s empty seat in the dining hall had passed before Draco decided he needed to find him. Now. He hastily threw together a plate of Harry’s favorite foods and rushed to their common room. 

When the portrait swung open he saw Harry, who was sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace. The same place that Draco had been sitting not even 24 hours ago, planning a future with someone who won’t even talk to him. He stood there silently for a moment, staring at his boyfriend and wondering how so much could’ve changed in so little time.

He finally sat down next to Harry and gently slid the plate out of his hand and onto the coffee table in front of them. It takes an insurmountable extent of courage for Draco to push a single word out, and even then, he sounds exhausted. “Hey.”

He waited for Harry to say something - anything, just to show Draco he was listening. Minutes passed and Draco realized that wasn’t going to happen. “Listen. Harry - I don’t know what you’re dealing with. And I know better than to push you to talk to me. But _please_ , Harry. Tell _someone - **anyone.**_ It’s obvious this is not something you can deal with alone - whether you think you can or not. Please Harry. _For me._ ”

And there they sat. Inches apart. Weeks ago - hell - days ago they would have been all over each other. But now those inches felt like an invisible barrier, and neither of the boys dared cross it. What seemed like hours passed before Draco stood up to leave. Harry grabbed him by his wrist and his touch sent waves of warmth radiating through Draco’s body. Waves of hope. Of anticipation. _Finally,_ he thought. _Finally he’s going to tell me._

“I think- I don’t… I don’t know how to tell you this. Draco I- I don’t love you anymore.” Harry’s voice was coarse and quiet. His eyes darted around the room, desperate to focus on anything other than Draco. 

Draco stood there, as still as a deer entranced by the headlights of a car before it, the only source of light in the pit of darkness which surrounded them. In some ways, Draco was similar to this deer. He had been so oblivious - trapped in his ‘headlight bubble’ - as Harry’s secret lurked throughout the darkness, growing closer and closer until it entered the light, exposing Draco to the truth.

Then suddenly, Draco remembered a dream he had, just over a week ago, about a deer in headlights. _Obviously,_ Draco thought to himself, _how could I be so stupid? This is just a dream. Pinch yourself, Draco! This is just a dream. You’ll wake up next to Harry and everything will be alright. It’s just a dream. You’ll wake up, and you’ll see his eyes flutter beneath his eyelids. You’ll wake up, and you’ll smell his unique aroma, radiating off of his body, so genuinely and effortlessly _him._ You’ll wake up, and you’ll hear his steady breathing, and you’ll match yours to his, and everything will be alright. You’ll wake up, and you’ll feel his soft, messy locks bunched up in your hands as you run your fingers through his hair, just like you did as you were falling asleep in his arms. And when Harry wakes up after you, you’ll taste his sweet lips, softly and passionately interlocking with yours, and you will never take another second for granted when you’re with him. All you have to do is pinch hard enough. And you’ll wake up. You’ll wake up. Wake up. Wake up. **Wake up!** This is not happening. He promised. He promised this wouldn’t happen._ “YOU PROMISED!” Draco screamed. His voice was sore, every syllable cracking, raw with emotion. “YOU PROMISED ME!” 

“Trust me, this is not how I wanted to tell you-”

“Really?” Draco asked, his tone _almost_ convincing enough to be a genuine inquiry. “I’m sorry, did this conversation not meet your standards? By all means, let me grab a piece of parchment so I can take notes. What can I do better next time, Mr. Potter? Please, tell me. I’m just dying to know.” Each word that fell out of his mouth grew more and more contemptuous by the second. He wanted Harry to endure what Draco was feeling right now. He wanted him to feel the burning pain that he had just produced inside of Draco. He’d never known that emotions could cause such immense physical pains.

“Draco…” It felt as though hours had passed before Draco broke the silence.

“You promised.” The words, softly spoken, floated out of Draco’s mouth, his lips barely moving. They flowed in and out of each corner, swayed between the flames which roared in the fireplace, hid under each of the cushions, squeezed between the cracks in the walls, filled every nook and cranny, flushing away the dense, yet fragile silence which had previously occupied the room.

“I know” 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco laid in bed, wide awake - though incredibly tired, with his curtains drawn tightly shut for 3 days straight before he ate anything. It took his friends an immense amount of coaxing before Draco finally ate a bowl of soup (in which his friends added a drop of desperately necessary Sleeping Draught), and even then Draco’s compliance was accompanied by much reluctance. In the small moment that Draco was outside of his bed, he caught a glance of himself in the mirror. There were deep, grey bags underneath his eyes, which were incredibly bloodshot. And the most telling sign - his hair was unkempt. Horribly unkempt. Possibly worse than Harry’s. Harry’s beautiful, gorgeous, amazingly perfect, unkempt hair. His hair, his eyes, his mouth, god his _smell._ Harry was the only thing that Draco could think about. But it wasn’t the same. In the past, he thought of Harry and felt admiration, infatuation, affection. Completion. But now all he could feel was regret. And the one person who he could open up to - the one person he could talk to about anything - was gone. When he wasn’t thinking of Harry, he was thinking of what he could’ve done differently to make him stay. How he could’ve changed. Merlin, he would change anything to have another second with Harry, no matter how painful it would be when it was over. 

Draco stayed in bed, wallowing in self-hatred and disgust - wondering how he could ever love himself if Harry didn’t, how he could ever be happy without Harry - for another six days before he finally got out of bed. It felt oddly refreshing to get out of bed, to get dressed, to walk to class. It was something so simple - yet so familiar, that it was easy to get lost and distracted. To forget the reality he was living in. But everywhere he went was filled with memories. The corridor where they kissed for the first time. The staircase that led to the astronomy tower where they first said they loved each other. The Great Hall where they accidentally let it slip that they were together and absolutely no one was surprised. Even the Forbidden Forest where he walked with Harry and Fang in his first year, not knowing the future he had with his mortal enemy. 

Draco goes to class but doesn’t pay any attention, and, in time, his teachers realize how useless it is to try to get his attention. His eyes are glazed over and he bumps into people in the hallways without a glance in their direction, like he doesn’t even know where or who he is. Even Quidditch becomes a burden. Eventually he stops crying. It’s not like he wanted to. He just doesn’t feel anything anymore. His whole body is filled with overwhelming numbness. He doesn’t think of Harry anymore. He doesn’t think of anything anymore. He can’t. His mind is just… empty. Draco knew in the back of his mind that he would get over this, he would move on. But it felt like that was impossible. He tries - he tries so hard - to feel happy. But he doesn’t even remember what that feels like and it seems like he’ll never feel it again. He wonders what the point of living is if he’s just existing. Surviving each day is an accomplishment in and of itself. 

Blatantly disregarding Draco’s abhorrence, his friends force him to continue playing Quidditch. At first, he was doing the bare minimum, but, after time, Quidditch became a safe-haven for him. When he was flying, that’s all he was doing. It was so simple. It was a great disparity in comparison to what’s been occupying his mind recently. He starts eating willingly, and even if it’s just a piece of fruit or a pack of crackers, it’s progress. He doesn’t know it, but his friends celebrated this. He was finally beginning to be himself again. Not long after, he starts going to Hogsmeade with his friends regularly, and they laugh, arms linked, walking through the snow, small clouds falling out of their mouths with each exhale. And Draco stands there, staring at his friends who care so, so much for him, wishing he could stay like this forever. And it finally feels like everything is going to be okay.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco and his friends step into the Great Hall, which had been transformed into a beautiful ballroom, full of exuberant students. He saw the first years gawking at all the decorations and wore a sad smile, knowing that they would have the best times of their lives in this school, while knowing that it would all come to an end. Knowing that they would make friends that would be there, standing beside them, through thick and thin. But most of all, knowing that everything would be alright.


End file.
